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Why I Am Bringing My Rhymes Back: A Satire

Val enjoys writing his own style of what resembles poetry, just hoping to catch someone's heart on the same page.

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If my poetry aims to achieve anything, it's to deliver people from the limited ways which they see and feel.

-- Jim Morrison

Back to Rhymes

Just a couple of months ago I got this crazy idea -- and a certain kinds of crazy ideas have from ever been my specialty -- to delete all my rhymes, which meant over hundred of them, in favor of focusing on editing my articles.

It was an experiment.

I wanted to find out if that step would make any difference in my status of a literary hobbyist at this Hub Pages website. You know what I mean -- since poetry in general -- in my case rhymes with some smart-ass messages encapsuled in them -- is not particularly valued, whereas editing articles is considered a "prudent" thing to do, I was curious if anything would change as a result.

And I am happy to report that nothing has.

Why am I "happy"? Because I honestly miss seeing my rhymes on the list of my "literary masterpieces". Besides, while reading what all those HP poets are writing, I don't see my own crap as inferior -- and for that realization I don't need anything like a "writer's false pride".

With my "Spartan" mental discipline I am not into any self-pampering illusions, and then it spreads over my image of my literary creations -- but also reflects on an objective look at others' creative caliber.

With a possible exception of a few of those writing in a "how-to" genre, the rest of us are just having fun expressing our creative urge -- in a style of someone singing an opera under shower.

So, I never removed my rhymes because I would have thought of them as being "inferior" -- I am simply not a popular hubber, so they are not popular either, as simple as that.

Remember Pablo Picasso, the famous father of "cubism" (those scrambled pictures) -- upon being warned that someone might steal his many paintings from his basement, this is what the celebrated painter said:

"I don't worry, because they are worthless without my signature".

Likewise, many a written piece is valued by the popularity of its creator, not necessarily by its true level of excellence.

Anyhow, after having edited some 60 hubs, nothing happened that could be interpreted as a "reward" -- not a change in traffic, not a change in my writer's score, nor in my articles' average score.

With that "Spartan mental discipline" bragged about, and also enhanced by my natural inclination toward satire, which is not exempting me as target -- I simply came to the conclusion that my English, being my second language, could not generate any better results.

No, my dear numerous friends our there, I am not selling myself short, I am at a market where discounts are a norm.

Actually I should be humbly-happy that my score is much higher than the ones of some writers' whose English is their mother's tongue.

Thus, what the heck -- since my crap anyway ends up in "Letterpile" -- let the "pile" at least be bigger with this bringing my rhymes back.

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The moment of change is the only poem.

-- Adrienne Rich

Anything Goes on This Website

Why am I announcing it in the first place -- why not just splash the Feed with my poetic wise crap instead, and make everyone wonder if I was also naive enough to expect some merciful Mother Theresa among hubbers to promote it to the others, lol.

Well, remember the unwritten rule of the Hub Pages: "Anything goes" -- so why not announce it? -- or why not even write something like a little compilation of jokes? - or why not make up a new guessing game, like, let's say, "what Val had for dinner on this day of Friday, March 18th". I bet you, some would take it seriously and start guessing.

Because it's the Hub Pages where anything goes.

Now, of course, it's that satirist in me yapping.

Satires, just like poetry, or any other genre for that matter, mean different thing to different people, and my style is as mine as is my fingerprint. I don't mean mockery, even when it sounds like one. And I certainly don't mean that things are pissing me off, even when it sounds like it.

To me it's a dash of humor sprinkled over the innocence of human imperfection.

Geez! I like this sentence I just made up so much, I've got to write it again: To me, my satires are just a "dash of humor sprinkled over the innocence of human imperfection". This statement is like a highlighted detail in otherwise boring landscape.

Did I say that my satirical passion is not sparing me either?

I love people because I can emotionally afford to love them -- not being on defense, not being normative, not being competitive, not being judgmental. People are as people are -- and if I can give myself freedom to be who I am, then I have to allow the same freedom to others.

Now, not that anybody is really dying to know, but -- why am I changing my mind all the time about these rhymes, having deleted them twice already before?

Why not?

I am in this lifelong business of changing, refining, replacing, cultivating something new in my personal psycho-physical nature, and then it reflects on what I do and how I do it.

Let me tell you a secret -- unless you already know it. Namely, I am scared of turning "normal", which spells being defined, recognizable, predictable -- because that sameness would be the beginning of my stagnation. That finding a sanctuary in a comfort zone where life is but one big repeatable routine, brings to mind expression like "mental swamp", where no current is flushing the stinky sameness away.

Even this new thing going on with "stealing of our work" by some miserable talentless idiot is at least something new to be seen on Feed. Hey, even some otherwise sweet individuals are showing their fighting spirit! Congrats!

As for me, I don't really give a rat's ass. I am actually laughing at the fact that Hub Pages, which lives off our written contributions, won't move a finger to protect their source of income. But, well, it's none of my business, let everybody do what everybody sees as appropriate.

I can't "telepathically heal" that pathetic literary parasite feeding on our brains' creations. Let him steal anything of me, I am not here to make one hell of a traffic anyway. And let him taste some hate by those who are hating my satirical eye-openers, after he presents them as his own crap.

The way I remember, even before this particular one started raising everyone's blood pressure, those thefts were a common thing at Google.

They don't really care, folks, like telling us: "If you don't like this hobby of writing, start collecting stamps, or do the crossword puzzles -- don't bother us with your complaints, there are always enough new suckers to replace you."

There's no money in poetry, but then there's no poetry in money either.

-- Robert Graves

For a Brief Epilog

There is a little left to say here, hoping that your memory is so bad that you wouldn't remember that I already have said it.

I always liked writing my rhymes. And, as you remember, I never called them "poetry", never calling myself a "poet", or even a "writer". My rhymes are what the word says -- rhymes, forms of A-B-A-B stances, with my little extra specialty of insisting on the right margin being slant -- just for fun.

And then, they are not taking much time to do. My articles are mostly between 1500-2000 words and over, so you know what a relief it is to say maybe the same smart-ass message in about 180-200 words.

Hey, those perennial proverbs survived for centuries despite consisting of a single sentence -- so imagine how much of that smart crap I can say in 180 words.

Well, I am going to copy back most of mine, and also add more fresh ones to that "pile" -- Geez, what a dignifying name: "Letterpile", I like someone's sense of humor.

Indeed, it's not anything like, let's say, "harmony of letters", or "symphony of letters" -- which might hint at our products of creative spirit -- but one prosaic, disorganized "pile". Just kidding. Who cares.

© 2022 Val Karas

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